[WinterWidow] A flash before my eyes

[zimasoldier]

"He said, I,
Was out my head--I was out of control
Thought I was living, but I wasn’t and
Sometimes, you crash and you burn
Before your once again whole
Gather the pieces to the puzzle"

Characters: Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff
Slash warning

Stark. He was just as clever as his father. There was something odd about letting this man use his device to probe around in his mind. He'd said this would take many treatments, and there was no guarantee that it would even fix the problem with Bucky's mind. Brainwashing was tricky business and the fact that it had been maintained and reinforced over seventy years only made it that much more difficult. Bucky wasn't sure if Stark was actually helping him out of respect for Rogers or whether he'd actually forgiven him for the Soldier's crimes. He really couldn't blame Stark if he never forgave him.

All things considered, even though he was getting treatments for his booby-trapped brain, he still couldn't go out in public. He was still a wanted criminal. On top of that, Stark didn't trust him as far as he could throw him without the Suit, so he was virtually a prisoner in Stark and company's care. That was fine, though. If he somehow triggered again, he preferred to be around those that could contain him if need be.

Then there was the curiosity of the redhead. He knew her. Vaguely, anyway. And not just because she was there when he--no--when the Soldier was hunting down Steve. She showed a wary caution around him, careful to conceal her true thoughts. She was well-trained and deadly. She was lithe and fierce; silent as the night and quicker than one might think. Who was she?

Barnes flexed the fingers of his newly attached bionic arm. It was silver and sleek, quieter than the previous and this one bore the Stark Industries branding. Stark had mentioned something about fitting it with a sort of holographic skin so he didn't draw so much attention with it. However, that was a bridge they'd cross much further in the future. --Those fingers clenched into a tight fist then loosened again, turning his hand over as if examining it. The craftsmanship was remarkable, but still eerily similar to his previous prosthetic.

Passing through the halls quietly--out of habit rather than necessity--he reached the large, open warehouse-like room that had been reinforced to train the other superhumans. Bucky pulled his hair back out of his face in a loose and messy ponytail. The sides were too short to stay put, falling back against his face, but he was able to tuck them behind his ears and get on with this. The knockoff Super Soldier squared off with a punching bag and planted a few jabs into it with his flesh arm, feeling the power it took to make it sway, dialling back when it swayed too much. His first strike with his left arm knocked the bag clear off it's suspension, laying it flat roughly five feet away. Well. That was a bit excessive and he'd hardly tapped it!

Bucky flinched when he felt a presence enter the room behind him...

"Don't suppose Stark has a sturdier anchor for this thing..." He nudged the bag with his foot. Breaking the ice? Well, he was trying. All kinds of alarm bells were going off in his head and crawling over his skin at having someone at his back. Slowly, he shifted his posture so as to turn slightly and acknowledge her presence. "I... can leave if you need privacy." Bucky offered, giving her an out if she wanted to take it.

Comments

[bozhemoi]

Natasha never would have considered that she alone was the only person in the world to have ever suffered the effects of brainwashing. She wasn't that naive. But there was a startling trend developing close to her. It had started with Barton falling prey to Loki and his stick. Now it was obvious that all those years ago before Rogers even became a capsicle, his best friend had fallen prey.

And to the Russians. Natasha couldn't help but feel a kindred spark developing. Not that she was entirely ready to acknowledge it, but she did feel like it was her duty to at least make Barnes aware that she was there. If he wanted to talk. Or not talk. She had a feeling Rogers had all of the talking covered. The man was relieved to have his best friend back - a link to his past, to his life before the ice.

But Bucky was never going to be the same. Not really. Despite Stark trying to use his technology for the good of the man's muddled mind (although, was it really such an altruistic act? Natasha was still waiting for the other boot to drop), Bucky was bound to still feel at a loss, or like he wasn't always sure where and when he was.

She had quietly entered the training room, watching him as she often did. Still trying to way up the fear she used to feel around him with the new sensation of... pity? No, that wasn't the right word. Understanding, maybe. She had once been in his shoes. She'd had Barton to bring her back from the darkness.

Her eyebrow crept up at the question and she dropped her folded arms from her chest, opening her own posture just a little. The scars always seemed to tingle a little in his presence. Quiet reminders that he'd shot her. But just like the Other Guy had once caused her nightmares after being trapped on the helicarrier, Natasha had been able to move past it.

Albeit slowly. Her lips quirked into a slight smile, and she crossed the room and headed straight for what seemed like an ordinary wall. She pressed the panel and it slid across to reveal a stash of punching bags. "You ask that like you're the first to ever knock a bag from the ceiling. You've seen your BFF, right? He's hardly holding back when he goes a few rounds."

Natasha turned, leaning back against the wall as she tucked her hands behind her and crossed her legs at the ankles. She was dressed to work out, but now it seemed more like she was there as a spectator. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question? Or should I be asking if you want more of a challenge than a sack of sand?" Clearly she didn't want to take the out.

[zimasoldier]

Bucky watched her as she moved across the room curiously. When that panel slid away to reveal that impossibly large supply of bags, he fought not to look too sheepish. It was only enforced further when she brought up Steve. He looked off to the side and let out a short breath. To a trained ear, that might sound something like an amused scoff. His BFF. Was he really? The past was foggy, but he could remember... "You gotta understand," He began, looking slightly distant, but fondly so. "back when I used to watch Steve whip the old bag into shape, that wasn't something I ever thought I could do. Not like that." He shrugged his real shoulder and lifted his gaze back to the bags. It was almost as if his mind still wanted to think like it did back then, even knowing everything he'd been made to do and what he'd been turned into. Some part of his James Buchanan Barnes personality still wanted to think of himself as the guy who went from the protector of Steve Rogers to being protected by Steve Rogers.

The next question caught him entirely off guard, however. Given how she moved around him and the fact that he had hurt her on more than one occasion as the Soldier, he wondered if he misheard her. Was she offering to spar with him? Or did Stark have some secret, advanced training robot he was keeping somewhere? Bucky realised he might have been staring a little too long before he decided to shake his head. She didn't take the out...

"I--" He began then stopped and looked a little more sombre, recomposing his answer carefully. "Is that such a good idea?" Part of him was a little concerned about stepping up to sparring when most of these people here were leery of him at best. True, he'd fought alongside Steve to get out of that building and he'd done so without hurting anyone more than necessary. He fought alongside him against Stark's posse--Hell, he'd actually been pretty impressed with the red-and-blue pyjama kid's strength. He'd even tag-teamed Stark with Steve when the man lost his temper, so he wasn't worried too much about losing control of his strength by accident.

"Most everyone around here seems uncomfortable around me. I don't blame them one bit. I'm pretty sure I've hurt a couple of people here." He lifted his gaze just slightly to give her an apologetic look.

Steve had tried, quite a few times, to get him to spar. He couldn't bring himself to accept the offers. It was too close to home. Not only that, but Steve was all too ready to green-light everything and let him jump into the field as it were. Not that there was really a field to jump into, but the blonde was just too eager to pick up things as if they didn't have seventy years of loss between them. Even if neither of them had been conscious for the full seventy years. In the back of Bucky's own mind, there was that small fear of 'what if this is all a trap'. He did make the perfect bait time and time again. History repeating and all that.

He sighed, coming to a decision, "If you're comfortable with the idea, maybe I would like the challenge."

[bozhemoi]

"I have so many questions about Steve from then. Maybe not so much the post-serum days. They're all on record. I also know not to interrogate you about it, I'm not going to be the one to make you feel bad about what you do and don't remember. Steve has changed... slowly, over the years I've known him. But I do still feel like I walked in halfway through the book."

If Bucky wasn't quite feeling the BFF vibe, Natasha honestly couldn't blame him. But it was more than obvious from Steve's point of view. And it was something that would make this more difficult. She hadn't considered approaching Steve about it. It wasn't really her place to point out that he needed to be patient, to understand that Barnes would need time before that good ol' feeling was completely back between them.

She hoped that maybe Clint would say something. Clint had been on Steve's side. Maybe she hadn't yet shared the bond with the archer that she did now, but Clint had been there every step while Natasha effectively built herself back up from the broken pieces she'd been left with after defecting. It taken her time to warm up to people.

Bucky at least had the benefit of a smile that could seriously disarm and charm an army when he actually let it show. Natasha felt like she must have walked around like the stereotypical sullen Russian for months on end. But then playing her emotions close to her chest was always a part of her DNA.

This time though, she let out a laugh. It wasn't fake, it wasn't forced. It was genuine and perhaps only a tiny bit at his expense. "Barnes, if I wasn't comfortable with the idea, I wouldn't have brought it up. Olive branch and all that... Has to go both ways, right? I'm also not most people, so."

Natasha pushed off the wall, stretching her arms as she began to close the distance between them. Enough to still give him space and plenty of warning that she would eventually be moving closer if they did spar. Her tank top already revealed the scar on her collarbone and when she stretched, the "anti-bikini" scar was revealed. The smile disappeared and she offered a shrug of her own. "Given the fact that we all just beat each other up in the name of right and wrong, I wouldn't feel too guilty about it. This is what we choose to do. Scars, bruises... goes with the territory."

[zimasoldier]

"You mean when he was just the little guy that didn't know when he was outmatched? Well, nothing's really changed much since then except his muscles. --and a serious growth spurt." He looked fond. "I can tell you little things I remember. It's easier when an outside perspective asks than when..." Than when Steve asks if he remembers something. He always looked like such a kicked puppy when Bucky didn't remember.

Well, okay, she had a point there. She didn't strike him as the type to make reckless offers without knowing full well what she was getting into. It helped him relax some as he settled back for a moment. "Fair enough."

Honestly, he didn't want to push Steve away--the opposite, in fact. He just wasn't sure it was wise. Steve threw everything he had away just for him. Just for the idea that he might be himself. The trust they had back in the day was something dangerous in a future where the enemy had literally been inside his head. He didn't want to hurt anyone anymore, least of all Steve.

With that thought in mind, his eyes caught sight of both scars in a matter of a few seconds and something cold settled in his stomach. "Even so, they shouldn't have to come from friends." He answered quite certainly. "I'm sorry for causing that mess." He knew it wasn't exactly his fault, but he was the reason Steve persisted the way he had. "...and I'm sorry for those scars. I don't remember them well, but I know I caused them." Because he could look at the scars and he could see the blood that had painted her body with each. It was like those two marks were overlayed with still frames of the past. Other scars didn't give him the same feeling.

"It almost makes me miss the days when scars and bruises came from Nazis not neighbours." A small bit of humour to lighten the mood, said with a very subtle upturn of his lips. It probably also made him sound old. Much older than he looked.

Buck readied himself, settling into a more defensive posture to start off. He'd let her come at him first so they could both get used to being in eachother's space. He knew she wasn't fragile, on the contrary. She'd faced the Soldier twice and lived to tell about it both times. If her scars told any kind of tale, it was that she was an incredible force. "Steve never liked to see someone wronged, even before he could do anything about it. Like those small dogs that think they're bigger than they really are. But he always stood up for what he believed in. Even when those that stood against him knocked him on his behind and I had to pick him back up." He divulged and shrugged. He didn't feel pressured to remember things, which made remembering what he could a little more rewarding.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha gave him a look of understanding. She didn't need him to tell her. Steve wouldn't be able to help but assume that Bucky was starting to remember everything. Or everything as it had been. But unfortunately his life as the Winter Soldier was no doubt going to colour everything a little differently. And those memories would still be more fresh than the ones shared with Steve.

"Mm, why am I not surprised? I really can't imagine what would have happened if the serum had been taken by anyone else but Steve." She already knew the result of someone trying to replicate it. "Sometimes it's easy to forget he was ever any different. That he might have needed protecting. But I'm sure he never took it. Or asked."

Natasha tilted her head as she watched his gaze shift. She had to make a conscious effort not to let her fingers stray to either scar so that it didn't make him feel any worse. She couldn't help the wry smile that appeared, and a quiet snort of distaste. "The world got complicated. Friends were foes. Foes were hiding as friends. And while I'm sure you want me to pile on the blame, now that I know what was controlling you, I'm not going to. I realise it's easier for me to say that... and somewhat hypocritical. I still catch myself considering my, ah, sins. Hating who I was. What I did."

The smile turned into one of amusement, her own gaze fixed on that upturn of lips he was actually showing. It was a nice change. "If only the black hats were so easy to recognise these days. But short of murderous aliens, clear HYDRA agents, and murderbots... they're not so obvious."

Natasha gave one last stretch as she warmed up before setting herself into a fighting stance. She sized up Bucky, trying to work out the best way to approach him. It was true that she'd faced the Winter Soldier and lived. She got the distinct feeling that facing Sergeant Barnes was slightly different. Her mouth pulled to the side for a second before she became focused and darted in quickly, her feet seeming to barely touch the ground as she closed the gap quickly and moved to strike with a kick followed by an attempt to hit him in the chest.