Chapter Text
You’ve become used to Sgt. Barnes’s solid presence at your side. Sure, he’s grouchy as all hell, but the vanishingly rare occasions on which he lets a sarcastic quip slip out are worth the wait. You find yourself nearly at a run to match his pace as he effortlessly strides down the long corridor towards the quinjet that will take you to your next mission. To Siberia.
You think you’ve learned enough about him in the preceding weeks to notice that the set of his stubbled jaw is even sharper today, his eyes flinty and absent. Your heart twists at how painful it must be for him to return to the site of his cruel torture, physical and mental. Was he scared? Angry? You know that in the long run it would be better for Bucky if the two of you could recover the Winter Soldier book, but you couldn’t help but think Tony was a mite gleeful to watch Barnes’s shoulders fall as the mission was revealed to him.
As he helped you through the awaiting door, you squeezed his hand a little longer than necessary and smiled at him. His answering smile was resigned. This would be a long flight.
Dropping himself heavily into the seat across from you, Bucky tried to keep his nerves from showing on his face, but somehow he knew you knew. He supposed he was past the point of saving face in front of you. You had been inside his mind, after all. He hated the idea at first, not the least because it was Tony, who hated him, reminded him of the worst moments of his life at every opportunity, who suggested it. Most of all he hated being held in suspicion by everyone around him, that he needed this fail safe. It was draining and, fuck it, it hurt. That was the truth.
When you knocked on his door for that first training session, chipper in your matching leggings and tank top and offering him a soy latte, whatever the hell that was, he was angry and humiliated and he snarled it out at your surprised face. It threw him off when you didn’t react to his vitriol, just pushed your way past him into his room. Weren’t you scared? Evidently not, as you lifted yourself onto his bare kitchen counter, setting aside the drinks to cross your arms over your chest. The sight of you casually marching around his room like he wasn’t a hairsbreadth away from committing a massacre made his chest feel tight in a good way.
“Look here, Barnes, I agree with you that this is an effed up idea, but evidently the powers that be really want this super special mission to go well, and it would be easier for both of us if you helped me pretend to play along until we have more information.”
He wasn’t expecting that. He hadn’t had a woman look at him with amused exasperation since, well, since before the war. He went on the defensive anyway.
“And you’re not a team player?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure seem to play along.”
“After what happened with Project Insight, I don’t trust SHIELD at all, let alone when it comes to matters possibly concerning HYDRA, which is the only reason I can think of that they would choose you specifically, despite not trusting you.” He must have blanched at that because you immediately looked contrite and softened your posture. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that, but you must sense the tension. I just think this mission is sketchy, is all.”
Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair and bit out, “Yeah, I can fucking sense it just fine.” The silence whenever he entered a room. The glances exchanged if he moved without a slow deliberate broadcasting of his intentions. He hated it, hated them for it, hated himself.
“Right, well, I’m not going to enter your mind without your permission, I will never do that, and I’m not going to push past whatever you want me to see if you do let me in there. I do think I might be able to help if you were to ever hear the words that set you off, and we should probably do something to prepare for whatever the hell is coming.” You hop off the counter and walk towards him, holding out the coffee cup like a peace offering. “What do you say? Ready to get to work?”
The surety of your steps as you approach him, even as he can hear his own harshened breathing, out of control, dangerous, is what compels him to take the cup. You smile as he takes as sip, and he discovers two new things that he likes in the 21st century.
Staring out the window at the choppy waters of the North Atlantic, you recall your first session with Bucky. You had laid it all on the table. It was shitty of the Avengers to treat him like a rabid dog that needed to be leashed. You’d seen him around the Tower a few times, and he never gave you the creeps or any impression of imminent violence. Sure, he could be gruff, and he was gruff to you then, but he hardly had a reason to feel like part of the team, did he? Besides, he seemed to get your perspective, rather than dismissing your suspicions.
You had skimmed his file and knew what it must have taken for him to agree to be at your mercy, and you endeavored to do nothing that would make him feel violated or like he didn’t have complete control of the situation. That first day, you experimented with creating such a rush of energy around his ears that he wasn’t able to hear even sounds so loud you had to break out the ear protection for yourself. After the last trial run you took off the ear pro and flopped back onto his couch.
“Well, unless HYDRA travels with their own amps, I think we’ve found one way around the protocol.” You grin up at him. He gives you a tight smile in return. A tough crowd, then.
“I won’t be as much use in a fight if I’m down a sense.” So matter of fact. When had he started to think of himself as only a weapon?
“Perhaps not, but you’ll be safer, and that’s worth something.” He said nothing. You’d put your foot in your mouth hadn’t you? Invading his personal space, acting like you knew what was best for him. Embarrassed, you got up quickly. “That’s enough for now, I think.” You were almost to the door when you heard Barnes shift behind you.
“I’m sparring with Rogers this time tomorrow, but I’ll be free after.” You turn around to face him, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You smile anyway.
“I’ll come by after, then.”
Bucky thinks you look beautiful in the dim light reflecting on the sea below. Distractingly so, which is a blessing as anxiety about the mission to come eats at him. Bucky recalls the first time thoughts of you distracted him. He was sparring with Steve, ostensibly training, but he couldn’t stop dwelling on your impending second visit. What would you want to do this time? You’d probably want to know how he became the Winter Soldier, would want to see it, to see what he had done. You saw him as an ally, which wasn’t much, he knew, but it was refreshing compared to what he felt from everyone else around him, except for Steve, and he didn’t want that to stop.
Speaking of Steve, Bucky grunted in pain as Steve’s fist made contact with his unprotected middle. The wind knocked out of him, he knelt to the ground to catch his breath.
“Come on, Bucky, you’re miles away today!” Bucky flipped Steve his middle finger as he pushed himself back to his feet. “Does this have anything to do with that meeting you and our resident telepath were called to yesterday?”
Bucky just glared at him and threw a sloppy punch, which perfect Steve perfectly sidestepped.
“You know you can talk to me, Bucky.” Always so earnest.
“There is a HYDRA related mission in the works, I’ve been selected for my connection, and she’s to use her powers to keep me in check.”
Steve’s face fell and Bucky instantly regretted mentioning it. Poor Steve, continually surprised at his new friends’ lack of faith in him.
“I’m sorry, I’ll talk to Tony, they can’t treat you like that, have her root around in your mind.”
“No, it’s okay, actually. She feels the same. We’re playing it cool until we know more.” His face must have betrayed his complex feelings about you, for Steve gave him a long look laden with meaning.
“We?” After beat, Steve grinned wide. “Is Bucky Barnes reentering the human race? Voluntarily socializing?”
“Oh, fuck off, Rogers.” Bucky’s face was hot as he turned away to replace his discarded shirt and return to his rooms.
“Oh, come on, Buck! I’m only teasing.” He didn’t receive a response from Bucky’s retreating back.
Upstairs, you were already waiting for him outside his room, once again holding two cups. This time they were clear, with dark purple liquid inside. Bucky raised his eyebrow.
“I stopped by my fave smoothie place after yoga. Yours has acai for antioxidants, maca for recovery, hemp for protein, not that you need any help with that, a little agave.”
He didn’t understand half those words. “We had food in the 1940s, too, you know. I can feed myself.” Manners, evidently not. You just smiled, and he took his smoothie.You didn’t flinch when his metal fingertips brushed yours.
“I know that, Barnes, but now we have exotic superfoods for their health properties. Think of the progress!” You were teasing him, he thought. He took a sip to avoid having to speak to you. You put him on the back foot. The drink was sweet and good, but he didn’t want to tell you that, so he turned to unlock his door. “So, I was thinking we could delve into what happens when you feel yourself becoming the Winter Soldier, and work backwards from there. Does that sound okay?”
Fuck.