Chapter Text
[June]
She drags him out of bed under the usual pretense of "If I have to get up at the crack of dawn after sciencing all night, the least you can do is accompany me!" In the month he's been here he's actually gotten used to doing the morning workouts with her, even going as far as admitting it clears his head - but today he's clearly not feeling it.
(The workouts were mandated by Okoye years ago: "Not everybody has the luxury of just getting superpowers from a magical flower, Princess, most of us actually have to earn our skills." Otherwise she'd still be in her lab, happily reinventing the laws of physics.)
He trails after her like a storm cloud, still wrapped in his favorite blanket to ward off the cold, then drops it unceremoniously to the ground with a huff and starts jumping in place, trying to warm up a bit. She doesn't say anything, knowing he'll say whatever's on his mind when he actually figures it out for himself, and starts the flow sequence she's known since she was a child. Out of the corner of her eye she sees him follow, scowling at her like he'd rather be anywhere but here.
Well, recovery is not linear. The psychiatrist that she's consulted before even bringing him back here warned her that the road is going to be long and hard. Of course, he then suggested her best bet is trying to develop a version of anti-depressants that would work on his insane metabolism, but she shot that idea down before he even finished the sentence. She knew there was no way Bucky would agree to taking any mind-altering substance after only just recovering from his short stint with psychedelic drugs mixed with hard alcohol - not to mention the chemical cocktail Hydra had him on. No, they have to do it the hard way.
She's shaken out of her zone when he yelps in frustration and lands on the ground ass-first, then fists both hands in his hair and curls into a shaking ball. Slowly she comes to sit next to him, dragging his blanket with her. "Tough night?" The only sound she gets in response is muffled sobbing that she studiously pretends not to hear. "I've worked on Nakia's ring blades all night, you know, good almost-sister-in-law that I am. I've been having this problem with the energy source, you see, they loose charge way too fast..." She works the problem out loud for a few minutes, until he visibly pulls himself together and wraps himself in his blanket despite the sun already starting to warm them. "Hey there. Better? What happened?"
"I've had a dream. Of Brooklyn," he whispers brokenly.
"Before the war?"
"Yeah, I remembered one of the dance halls that we used to go to... One night they had this line dancing event and of course I had to drag Stevie there, convincing him that 'he doesn't even need to bring a date to this one'. 'C'mon, it'll be fun,' I said. I forgot all about it until I saw it in my dream last night, me teaching him the steps and him laughing like a maniac that he was..." he trails off, looking into the distance.
"Sounds like it was fun?"
"Yeah, only I've just realized how bloody obvious I must've been, looking at him like he'd hung the bloody moon. I remember one of our friends, Dolores - we called her Dot - she looked at me so funny when I asked her to dance with me later. Gave me this look like I was diseased or something. God, how many people knew about me? And how did Steve not know?" he bites out.
"I think maybe he saw only-"
"You know what the worst part is?" he barrels right over her. "I miss him. He's left me time and time again, he's never really seen me, he's taken everything I've had and given back nothing, and I still bloody miss him. I dream about him! How pathetic is that?!" His voice is hoarse.
"You've come here to get away from all that, from him, remember? Remember why we're doing this?" He nods, watching her warily. "The life you're trying to build here, the friends you're making? Your life isn't all about him anymore." He doesn't say anything, and she quickly makes a decision. "Come on, up, up!" She gets up and drags his hand until he stands up as well, looking like a disgruntled larva in his blanket cocoon. Even the hair is spot-on.
"No, what? What now?"
"We're going running, come on. You need a way to get rid of all this energy, and moving meditation obviously isn't cutting it. Come on, I bet as out of shape as you are, I actually stand a chance to keep up with you."
"But the blanket, and your ring blades thing, and-"
"Nope," - she pops the 'p', the teenager that she is - "we're going around the lake and then back to the palace, you're done moping. And Okoye will whip my ass if you don't get on top of that dance routine we're showing next week, so after we come back, we're doing that. Come on, I haven't got all day!" She knows he will take the time to fold his beloved blanket this time, so she's not surprised by his indignant squawk when she runs full sprint out of the garden, not even looking back at him. She's likewise not surprised when he catches up with her before they even leave the palace grounds. He never could resist a challenge.
Good. It just so happens that challenging people is what she's best at.