We jus gon pretend wanda can speak russian
Warnings: nightmares, probably swearing, the sweet sweet smell of James Buchanan Barnes, eating raw meat (in wolf form, but still, don't do this at home kids), weird stuff I made up about HYDRA so this makes sense
Word Count: 1371
'Do you remember where the HYDRA base was?' Tony asks as we sit around the dinner table, a week after I recovered from the serum. And I still have no answers. Just memories of killing people, and sleepless nights because I don't want to relive those moments in my dreams.
'Kind of,' I say, squinting and trying to remember. 'Uh, I think it was...' I growl. 'I can't remember,' I knead my temples with my fingertips. 'I can lead you to it?' How come I know where it is, but don't know the name?
'Don't.'
His voice rings through the room. I glance up, my eyes fixing on Bucky. He runs a hand through his long brown hair. He still hasn't come into my memory yet.
'What do you mean, no?' Vision asks.
'I mean, don't, because it's not going to work.'
'You think I'm a - '
'No,' he says. 'But they built something into the brainwipe formula, that if the serum fails, the agent will just lead you in circles.'
'How'd you know?' Natasha asks.
'Uh,' he looks down. 'I, uh, once I tried to see if I could find the HYDRA base. I didn't.' I see his jaw clench.
There's a sort of awkward silence, and then Natasha turns her head to Bucky and speaks a string of Russian words that I, and the rest of us don't understand. He looks over at her and answers, still in Russian, and I sigh. I need to learn Russian. And it won't even take me too long to learn, either. Enhanced brains do have their perks.
'You know it's rude to speak in a language no one else understands,' Wanda says.
'You understand it,' Nat replies.
'Yeah, but no one else does, and I'm speaking for Minka here.'
'Me?'
'I can see it on your face.'
I laugh, and it's a surprisingly sweet sound which I haven't heard before. Christ, I've never heard myself laugh. Bucky goes rigid in his seat, like that sound brings back memories, which it probably does. Nat says something to him in Russian and he glares at her.
'I can't believe you,' he growls, in English, and she says something else, making him flush.
'When are Thor and Loki coming?' Steve asks, saving Bucky.
'Tomorrow,' Tony replies. 'Not exactly sure why, but they're coming. Maybe it gets lonely in Asgard.'
We laugh, Bucky maybe a bit too loudly. Standing, I dump my plate in the sink and head for my room.
I glance at myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth. My hair is long and jet black, and I have slanted emerald green eyes, my wolf the same. I stare back at the woman in the reflection. She's strange, her face slightly haggard from the nightmares that haunt her every night, but there's a determination in the set of her mouth and you can tell she's not the type who would cower before anything or anyone. I smile at her around my toothbrush, and a replica of it slips onto the woman's face, softening the lines on her forehead, making her features less sharp and causing her eyes to sparkle. But there's still that slight haunted look I see mirrored in Bucky's face, the seen and unseen scars of HYDRA etched there.
Sighing, I spit the minty froth into the sink and watch it trickle down the drain. An overwhelming need for answers has been biting at me for a few days, and questions fill my mind. After I've changed into my pyjamas, I crawl into my bed with my phone, meaning to learn some Russian, but just ending up staring out of my window in the Stark Tower and trying to give answers to my questions.
-------
The people I've killed loom before me, the bullet holes oozing blood. My eyes widen and I scramble back, telling myself again and again that it's just a dream. But I still killed them. Trembling, I wake up, in the same position, the curtains still open. With a sigh, I check my phone. It's just after midnight. There's no way I'm getting to sleep now. Standing, I stagger through the hallway to get to the joint kitchen and living room, not forgetting my phone, which Tony got for me. It's cold enough that I start shivering in the oversized shirt that I sleep in. Not bothering to go back to my room, I blunder into the laundry room instead, not switching on the lights so I don't ruin my night vision. Fumbling around, I grab a hoodie that looks like mine from one of the racks and pull it on. Immediately, the scent of wind and storms washes over me, and I stand, almost paralyzed by his scent. It calms my nerves, and I just stand there for a moment, eyes closed.
'Shit,' I mutter, but don't take it off. His hoodie is like a warm embrace around me, and I stop shivering, closing my eyes slightly and holding the sleeve, which reaches up to my fingertips, to my nose, breathing in his smell. I realise what I'm doing, and quickly pull my arm away, walking over to the living room while committing a few Russian words to memory. I haven't turned the corner yet when I sense that someone's already sitting on one of the sofas.
It isn't who I expect. Bucky. He looks up at me from where he's sprawled on the sofa, and I see his eyebrows lift slightly as he sees me in his hoodie, but he doesn't say anything about it, instead, he asks,
'Can't sleep?'
I shake my head and curl up on the sofa opposite him, switching off my phone and resting my head against the cushion. I look at him from under my lashes - not because I'm trying to be bitchy or anything, just because that's the way my head is angled.
'I want answers.'
He looks away, his voice strained.
'N - no.'
I lean forward.
'Why?'
'I - ' He looks over at me, and I know he's telling the perfect truth as he locks eyes with me. 'I can't force anything on you. I won't.'
I'm surprised for a moment, then I cock my head, knowing he's not lying to me. Something tells me he couldn't.
'But - '
'I mean that,' he says, squirming under my gaze.
'That's okay,' I tell him softly. It's unearthly, how well I can read his body language, how I understand him so perfectly. And right now, I know he isn't ready to tell me anything. But I still want answers. So I'll find them myself.
I stand up.
'Night, Buck.'
'Night,' he replies. 'You can keep it.'
It takes me a second to realise he means his hoodie.
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When I wake up again, I'm craving some raw meat. I don't get the urge often, but when I do, it often means my wolf side is getting a little bit restless. So instead of pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I grab some meat out of the fridge and put it in the microwave to warm it up to room temperature. Setting the meat on a plate on the floor, I Shift and, you could say, wolf down the food. Nat comes into the kitchen just as I finish. I look up at her, lick my chops and carefully pick the plate up off the floor and put it in the sink, then Shift back and turn to her, glancing at the splashback to check there isn't any blood around my mouth. She's probably seen worse, but it'll make her uncomfortable.
'Morning,' I say. 'And no, I'm not crazy, I just have to give into my instincts once in a while.'
'And if you don't, you'll actually go crazy?'
I roll my eyes at her, but laugh.
'If you don't mind, I'm going to Shift back and take a nap,' I tell her.
'I swear you just woke up.'
'Wolves have different sleeping routines, and I also didn't sleep too well.'
She chuckles. 'I guess.'
I Shift back and curl up by the sofa, closing my eyes and letting sleep take me in its arms.