Two Months Before The Banner Wedding
When Talia got back to his room Steve was standing by the bed, his back to her, in nothing but grey sweats that hung low on his hips. She paused in the doorway as her eyes ran over his broad shoulders, over the strong back and smooth skin. The wrap of the bandage covered his lower spine, keeping the gauze dressing in place against the lower left side of his gut, and she watched as he adjusted himself gently, holding his side, to reach for his t-shirt from the pile on the window sill.
"You know, it's rude to stare."
She could hear the upturn of his lips as he smiled to himself and she stepped forwards.
"Oh no," she mocked, "I didn't mean to be rude."
Steve laughed and immediately regretted it. Pain rocked through him pulling at his stitches and eliciting a groan as he clutched at the wound on his abdomen. Within seconds Talia was by his side, staring up at him with wide, concerned eyes, holding his arm and guiding him to the edge of the bed. He let her help him, watching her hands as she took one of his in her own and squeezed it reassuringly. His heart stuttered as she took the t-shirt he had yet to put on from him and her eyes scanned his body. He watched the way she bit her lip as she traced the lines of his chest and how her breathing became slightly heavier as he held his own breath.
"Do you mind if I -?" She held the t-shirt in front of her as she glanced up at his eyes and a small laugh escaped her as a burning blush rose in her cheeks. He watched her so intently, so closely, and she could see it in his eyes; desire. It wasn't hard to recognise when she was feeling it so intensely herself.
He simply nodded and waited.
Slowly, with great care, Talia slipped the t-shirt over his head and helped him to adjust so that he could comfortably put it on properly. As she helped him he placed his hands on the back of her thighs, pulling her towards him. He held her between his legs gently, easily, and she felt comfortable; like she'd always been this close to him, this free with him. Beneath the comfort and familiarity sat something tantalisingly blissful, something she was beginning to understand and accept. She found herself wanting him to lean in, to close the distance between them and to claim her lips with his own, and yet she was scared.
She brushed her hands over his shoulders as he sat watching her, before running her fingers through his hair, neatening it as she spoke.
"What are you even doing out of bed Ice-pop?" She smiled as he reached up and brushed her hair off of her shoulder.
"I'm breaking out."
When he grinned her stomach tightened and her eyes drank him in. He was truly breathtaking. The crinkles around his eyes when he smiled showed laughter and joy and pure bliss and somehow the icy blue liquidised and whirlpools of crystal seas pulled her in. She tutted as he laughed and brushed her hand over his cheek.
He was sweating slightly and his breathing was ragged and disjointed.
"Why are you breaking out when you should be resting?"
"Figured if I'm going to keep my arms around you we might want a little more space." He shrugged and groaned.
"Steve."
"Talia."
"I think you should let the nurses take care of you down here for a little while." She brushed her fingers over his forehead, checking his temperature as she smoothed out the crease forming as he frowned. "I don't mind sleeping on the chair if you need the space."
Steve sighed as he slumped forwards, his head falling to rest lightly against her chest as she smiled.
"Fine," he groaned. "But I'm going to have to break out soon because the nurses aren't happy with me." He felt her giggle as it bubbled in her chest. "What did Nat want anyway?"
Talia paused, her whole body tensing as she tried to find a tidy way to summarise the overwhelming emotion of her conversation with Nat; how to tell him that she had reunited with her sister, not just physically but truly; that she remembered Natasha and not him. The joy of familiarity and family was darkened by the gaping hole in her memory where he had once built a home.
"Tal?" He pulled back to look at her, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against her hips as he moved his hands to hold her. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she shrugged, "I promise. It's kind of the opposite actually."
Steve furrowed his brow, squeezing her gently to comfort her, waiting for more information.
"Nat and Bruce are getting married. She wants me to walk her down the aisle." She smiled sweetly as his grin grew and she watched love and happiness and excitement dance across his features.
"Finally," he laughed.
Talia nodded slightly as she chewed on her lip, nerves consuming her mind and taking her words from her. His fingers moved quickly; letting go of her hip and gently gripping her chin, wobbling it slightly and making her smile as she let go of her lip.
"What's going on in that head of yours Runaway?"
"I-" She took a deep breath as she stared into the blue of his eyes. "I remember her. It's just one memory really. Her leaving. And it's so fuzzy but it's there you know? And it's real. It's so real and I've not felt that yet. I've not felt like I knew anything until now."
Steve's smile was soft as he watched her worry and her pain write itself over her face; happiness and love mixed with frustration and disappointment.
"Hey," he soothed, "that's great Runaway. One memory is one more than yesterday. It's great news."
"Yeah?"
Her eyes gave a home to sparks of hope and possibility and Steve vowed to himself that he'd give her time. He'd wait, and he'd watch, and he'd help where she needed him to, but he would not add pressure as she stumbled through the darkness of her past.
*
One Month Before The Banner Wedding
Talia groaned as she stretched, her T-shirt pulling up as her arms elongated above her head and Natasha sat buried in plans beside where she stood.
"We should call it a night," Nat suggested, looking up at Talia when she grunted in response. Her eyes lingered on the small red scar across her abdomen: the mark of what brought them back together. "Okay. What's with you tonight?"
"Nothing." Talia rolled her eyes and shook off the sleepiness that had blanketed her as she'd sat at the giant table in the meeting room, now covered in seating plans and colour swatches and floral designs. "There's just a lot to do."
"Bullshit." Natasha retorted, taking no prisoners as she assessed the tension radiating from Talia. Her shoulders were taut and her hand moved to her neck regularly, massaging the knot that had formed almost overnight. She was stressed out and it wasn't wedding planning that got her to this point. "Talk."
"I'm fine Natasha." Talia's voice was stern and cold in response and Natasha raised her eyebrows. "Sorry. It's just..." Her eyes grew misty as her mind moved to corners far removed from the realities of the room she was in.
"Still nothing, huh?"
Natasha's heart was breaking for Talia - it really was - she could see how much it frustrated her to still find patches and holes in her memory; it hurt her to know the missing memories were the ones she craved the most and yet she could do nothing to help her. Gently she reached out, grabbing her hand as Talia paced past her and squeezing tight as she came to a stop.
"It will come Munch." She offered a sympathetic smile. "It will."
"Why can I remember you. And them." She shuddered as images of Madame B and her trainers from The Red Room flickered behind her eyes. "But I have nothing when it comes to him?"
"I don't know Talia." Natasha whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"I can remember that when I was just seven you told me you wanted blossoms at your wedding so it would feel like spring, I can remember the time Madame B locked us in isolation for two nights because we snuck out, I can remember the lullaby you sang to me when I had nightmares. Natasha I remember running. I remember freezing on the streets and knowing I would not be safe unless I kept moving. But that man? The man who loved me so much, who I loved so much I stopped running? Why can't I get him back?" As she spoke she crumbled. Her shoulders shook and her voice broke. She became a child again; a child who needed protecting and comforting and loving. She was vulnerable.
"I don't know Munch." Nat wiped her own tears as she watched Talia do the same. "But I know it will come. I promise it will come."
"You can't promise me that Natasha." It was a broken whisper and nothing more. It was agony.
*
The Night Before The Banner Wedding
She screamed as they tied her down. They held her tight and the straps cut her wrists. It cut her neck. She kicked but it only made them angrier. She cried and they shoved fabric into her mouth. She went limp and they pushed her across the table like a rag doll. She was alone.
Talia tore from her sleep, her heart pounding and her fists flying. She kicked and screamed as the ghosts of her past taunted her, whispering to her in her groggy, half awake state. She cried out for them to let her go as she clawed at the figures in the dark. Hands brushed over her, pinning her arms and holding her tight and she cried. She cried as he held her close, rocking her, soothing her.
"Shhh." His whisper was in her ear as he pulled her against his chest, rocking back and forth as she slowly relaxed against him. "Shhh. It's okay. It's okay. I've got you. You're safe. You're safe now Talia."
"Steve?" She sobbed as his arms loosened and she turned to him, burying her face in his chest as her panic left exhaustion and pain in its place.
"I'm here Runaway. I'm right here." He brushed her hair back as he lay down, keeping her in his arms and pulling the sheet over them once more. His hand moved to the softness of her shoulder, tracing patterns against her skin as her breathing evened and her cries quietened.
Her chest ached. Her heart ached.
"What was it this time?" He whispered in the dark.
"The same as it always is." She sucked in a deep breath. "But I think it was earlier this time. Before Nat left."
He brushed his fingers against her neck and she closed her eyes, allowing the touch to seep into her skin.
"I was young. Maybe six or seven?" She wrapped her arm tighter around his waist. "It was punishment again."
His throat tightened as her words hung in the midnight air. In the silence that settled he could hear his heartbeat and he could hear her breaking.
"Hey," he hushed as she shook against him. "Don't cry Tal. They can't hurt you now. I won't let them hurt you ever again."
"It's not that Steve." She choked on her words. "It's just - I keep remembering all of this stuff and it's so dark Steve. It's all so dark. And then there's you... What if I don't remember you? What if I never remember us?"
His heart squeezed and he held her closer still. In the months that had passed he too had wondered what would happen if she never remembered him; if he never got to feel her lips against his, or the suppleness of her skin as they lay together wrapped in the hazy bliss of each others bodies. There was just one answer he could come up with. Only one truth that filled the missing puzzle piece of his own heart.
"We start again." He sighed. "If you never remember me, I'll just have to make you fall in love with me all over again."