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Bucky wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he heard the knock at his front door at 1 AM, but it definitely wasn’t Natasha Romanov. Despite their newly found friendship, the whole standing injured at his front door in the middle of the night thing wasn’t an anticipation of his. It’s exactly why his eyes went wide and his brows met in the middle of his forehead as he took in the sight of The Black Widow smiling. Her right hand was gripping her left arm, close to her shoulder, and there was a little blood peaking through the rips in her long black sleeve suit.
“Trick or treat?” She smirked even wider waiting for him to say something or let her in.
“Natasha?” Bucky wasn’t sure why he spoke her name, he knew it was her, he was probably trying to buy another second to wrap his mind around the situation in front of him.
“Gonna invite me in, soldier?” This time a little desperate chuckle escaped from her mouth as she gripped her arm tighter, but it didn’t stop her from noticing the quick twitch on Bucky’s face as she spoke the ‘soldier’ endearment. They always gutted her a little bit, each expression that made his face fall, so she pocketed that information along with all the other things she’s picked up on Bucky over the last few months of them being the two Avengers to hole up in Brooklyn after the Thanos events.
“What happened?” He waved her in, shaking his head from the frozen state he was originally in.
“Stuck my nose in someone else’s business.” Natasha was moving to the kitchen, opening drawers looking for something to patch herself up.
“Sit.” Bucky’s vibranium arm was reaching out to the drawer of utensils Natasha had just opened, his way of telling her to stop and let him take over, his other hand pointing to the kitchen island where his sink was for her to retreat to.
Nat stayed there staring at him for a few seconds, probably gauging if it was worth it for her to argue with him but ultimately nodded and moved to sit on the counter. Bucky closed the utensil drawer and moved to the cabinet that held his medical supplies. As he grabbed the items, she took the time to rip her sleeve just above her gash, that way her full arm would be free of any obstruction.
Natasha watched him dance around the kitchen and couldn’t help but admire him. He wasn’t bad to look at, the way his shirt fell snug around his arms and chest, accentuated the best parts of him physically, which was pretty much everything. Steve took every opportunity to pay back Natasha for all the teasing he endured when he realized she found his best friend attractive. Natasha never minded because it was true, Bucky was hot. But lately, he also did the impossible to Nat. Ever since the Red Room, it was hard for Natasha to love, to trust, to open up, it was everything they embedded in her not to do. After her S.H.I.E.L.D recruitment, her years with the Avengers, she learned the love and trust part, but opening up was still an unchecked box. Until Bucky.
She felt comfortable giving him just a little more context to things, not enough that anyone of a normal life would consider it opening up, but for people like her and Bucky, it didn’t go unnoticed.
He was special.
After dropping the supplies next to Natasha, Bucky moved to wash his hands which earned him a laugh from his unexpected company.
As his head turned to the woman, he sported his typical brooding face but Natasha had started to learn the differences between each one. This one was looking for a reason behind the laugh, not telling her to stop, just searching for an answer behind her chuckle.
“I’m used to less…” her head bobbed from side to side, “cleanly conditions when I’m getting patched up.”
His attention moved back to his actions, setting up everything he needed since he had an answer to why she was laughing. “Yea, well, I’m used to people not knocking on my apartment door looking to be patched up.” He had a cloth in his hand that he was preparing to wipe down her arm with.
“I was scoping out someone, got distracted and got my arm snagged in something.” She was hoping that a piece of the truth would be enough for him to back down on his annoyance with her.
“This is deliberate.” Bucky took his right hand and lifted Natasha’s arm to rest on his shoulder, his vibranium hand pointing to the cuts on the underneath of her arm. “I can tell your arm got stuck in some type of barbed wire trap–like a smaller scale bear trap.”
It was true, as she stepped into the abandoned warehouse to get a look at the person she had been following, her mind was so focused on their face that she missed the signs of the trap, likely something they put down to alert them if someone was tailing them.
“I didn’t see it. I was focused.” Her eyes moved away from Bucky, a sign of her embarrassment from the situation as he grabbed tweezers to take the few pieces of wire that were still lodged in her arm.
“Isn’t that like the first thing they teach you in spy school? You didn’t take a ‘How to spot booby traps 101’ class?” Bucky didn’t miss the flinch on Natasha’s face when he said spy school, he could’ve blamed it on removing the wires from being embedded into her skin, but he didn’t have the tweezers near her when she flinched. “Who were you spying on?” He tried to change the subject after noticing her slight discomfort.
That she laughed at. “Now that’s the first thing they teach us, Barnes. Don’t admit your mission. Kind of defeats the purpose of spying.”
Bucky continued picking the pieces out of Nat’s arm. A silence grew over the two of them, just the noise of light metal pinging as he dropped the barbed wire thorns onto a small tray. Occasionally, Natasha would let out a slight groan or a little wince, each earning her a quick glance from Bucky, his way of apologizing and looking at her for the okay to keep going.
“No couch.” Natasha broke the silence. It was an observation that she made the first time she stood in Bucky’s doorway months ago when Sam had let her know she lived only a few blocks away from the man, but now she was seeing it in full light for the first time.
Bucky looked over his shoulder into his empty living room, the only thing taking up space in there being his TV. “I, uh, prefer sleeping on the floor.”
“Where am I sleeping?” She barely let the man finish his sentence before her question was being spoken.
That earned Natasha a look of confusion from Bucky, one of Natasha’s favorite faces of his.
“You gonna send a broken girl back out on the New York streets, Barnes?” Her voice had such a flirtatious tone to it, one that Natasha used as her own shield, it was a tactic but also a guard. Although, with Bucky, maybe there had always been a little truth and hope behind the words but Bucky never picked up on that part of it. In the time they had spent together over the last few months, though, he learned quickly to see past the tactical flirting.
“You’re not broken.” He wasn’t talking about the deep gash on her arm, but the fact that Natasha was probably one of the most put together people he knew, especially in comparison to himself. Or at least, that’s how he looked at it. “I have an air mattress that Sam gave me, told me it helped him when he came back from his last tour.”
After pulling the last obstruction from her arm, he took the cloth and dabbed it on her arm, cleaning up the dried blood before letting the cloth soak with peroxide.
“This is going to sting.” He mumbled the words as he placed the brown bottle down and readjusted the woman’s arm on his shoulder. She realized how relaxed she was in that moment, her hand was daintily tossed over Bucky’s shoulder, her heart wasn’t racing like it was when she first arrived, she felt at ease– she felt safe. But ironically, that thought made her feel the opposite almost instantly.
“I know how sterilizing a wound works, Bucky.” Natasha chuckled but it didn’t stop her from bracing herself for the impact of the cold peroxide. Bucky could feel her tense up the slightest bit. The situation was rather intimate, Bucky’s legs straddled around one of Natasha’s, her arm resting his shoulder brought their chests close together, the rise and fall of their breathing bringing it all that much closer. Bucky looked up at Natasha’s face for 3 seconds, but to both of them it felt like hours, searching for something in her eyes.
Before sterilizing the wound, he brought his vibranium arm up to her injured one and with a light touch he tried to bring her back to that state of calm she was just at seconds ago. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, or had the power to be gentle in him anymore but it worked. He felt the fall of her chest as she let out a breath that held so much guard to it, it was like her resistance crumbled down all in a single exhale.
But despite the surrender, Nat’s personality was still intact fully, which is why she opted to tease the man patching her up. “How’d that date with the waitress go?” Her eyebrows wiggled and her lips turned into a slight smirk.
Bucky should have known Natasha would have found out about the date. She probably bought Yori coffee and he happily told her all the details of how he had to ask the girl out for Bucky.
“She called me adorably old-fashioned.” It was at that moment that he placed the stinging agent on her arm and cleaned the wound out. It would have been quick but the gash went around her arm like a banded tattoo, so it took a couple minutes to make sure everything got sterilized. During that time, even though she wanted to say something in response to Bucky, she kept quiet, focusing on her breathing as her wounded flesh absorbed the alcohol.
It was when Bucky was beginning to place butterfly bandages and then gauze around her arm that she spoke up.
“Some girls like the flowers and hand holding thing, Barnes.” She shrugged, causing Bucky to use his other hand to steady her arm, the fast and unexpected grip of his touch caused her to hiss slightly. Their eyes instantly shot up at each other. Bucky’s were apologetic, slightly worried from the reaction she had and Natasha’s were harder to read, but it didn’t matter because they didn’t look at each other for long.
“I left in the middle of the date.” Bucky continued his story, now bringing up an ace bandage to keep everything snug and in place.
She was about to shrug again but immediately stopped to avoid another awkward stare. “They can’t all be winners.”
—
After she knocked, her hand went to the door handle and jiggled it in hopes it’d be open. She was currently doing a balancing act as she held the bag of groceries, beer, and a replenishment of first aid supplies, but it didn’t stop her from trying to use her skills to pick the lock.
As the door swung open, as if Bucky’s face didn’t say it all, he figured he’d fill the gaps with words. “Were you breaking into my apartment?”
“To stock it with beer, food, and first aid supplies.” She was already inside the apartment, not waiting for an invitation this time. She dumped everything on the island and began unloading the brown grocery bag. “Brought you actual food, I know you know how to cook.”
“Takeout is easier.” His face still was scrunched up.
“Not on your mind.” The words took Bucky back, his face dropped like he saw a ghost but truthfully it was just that Natasha saw him. “Cooking will help keep your brain busy, might help tire you out in all honesty.” She was moving the produce into the fridge along with the beer. “Maybe you can actually get through the night without a nightmare.” Yea, not only did she see him, but she knew him. Too well.
Bucky moved over to the island and grabbed the first aid supplies in his hands and as Natasha turned from the fridge to grab the two trays of chicken she bought she nodded to what was in Bucky’s hand. “Wanted to replenish what I used last week.” As she remembered the injury, she felt the wound throb along with a quick twinge to her heart before pushing the thoughts away and continuing to unload the items.
“I already did.” Bucky’s words earned him a look from Natasha that spoke that she wanted to know why.
“I like to be prepared.” He lifted his hands in surrender before moving to where he kept his first aid supplies.
“In case anyone comes knocking at your door in the middle of the night with an injury.” The smile grew on her face that quickly turned to a chuckle while she closed the fridge.
“Hey, you laugh, but it’s happened.” He turned to lean on the counter with his arms crossed after he closed the cabinet.
Natasha was taking another bag out from the grocery bag which made Bucky’s eyes widen while Natasha tried to hide her smirk.
Bucky pushed off the counter and moved next to Nat as the smell of takeout Chinese food filled the apartment. The sound of chopsticks hitting the counter accompanied the noise of the bag ripping to reveal the containers of food.
“What happened to cooking was good for my mind?”
“Good for yours, not mine.” She moved her arm in front of him and grabbed the container that already looked slightly open and a little less full, probably from her journey over to Bucky’s apartment. She stifled her laughs by shoving a bite of food into her mouth as she walked around the island. Instinctually she was moving to sit on the floor and turn the TV on but her feet froze when she stepped into the living room.
It was scary to her that she didn’t notice it when she came in. Everytime it was obvious to her that being around Bucky made her feel so at ease, her guard would get built up 10x higher but he managed to knock it down no matter what.
“You got a couch.” Her head didn’t turn to look at Bucky as she asked, her eyes stayed plastered on the deep bucket cushioned couch, paired with an ottoman all that rested against the wall she had planned to prop herself against.
“Got it when I picked up the gauze.” He was opening the containers when his eyes squinted and his head turned slightly. His favorite–beef and broccoli with Kung Pao sauce on top. It was a specialty order so the fact Natasha had gotten him this meant she knew it was his favorite.
“Why?” Her head turned now which made Bucky look up. After a second of staring at her he shook his head free of the thought in his brain. “Uh,” he began walking towards her with his food in hand. “Same thought, better prepared for injured guests in the middle of the night.”
They were standing next to each other now, food in hand, staring at the couch.
“Do we eat on it?”
“Sure.” Bucky shrugged and plopped down on one side of the couch which made Nat do the same. She got the side with the ottoman so she kicked her legs up and nodded to the TV, in which Bucky obliged. Immediately the Gunsmoke reruns were playing and Bucky was scrambling to change it to anything else.
“No, leave it. S’good show.” Nat was pointing at the TV with her chopsticks.
Bucky wanted to frown and question the girl, the word “really?” was at the tip of his tongue but he just nodded and dropped the controller and opted to continue eating as the sounds of the theme song filled the living room.
Time had passed and the only thing that brought the two out of their silence was the commercial for all the Avengers action figures. The narrator's voice was filled with excitement as he practically yelled all the features of each one. The magnet shield that would release and come back for Captain America, the large rotating and smashing hands of the Hulk, the winding arm and hammer on Thor, the quick release helmet that revealed Tony’s face, shootable arrows for Hawkeye and then the rappelling that allowed the Black Widow action figure to descend down in her spy-like ways. It was your average Saturday morning cartoon commercial, except it was 11PM on a Friday night, and all it did was bring the two in the room right now an awkward tension.
“They forgot to mention my dual batons, those were my favorite.” Natasha broke the tension with a joke, standing to take the empty takeout containers to the trash.
Bucky smirked at that, but it was obvious his face was full of something Natasha was feeling as pity.
“I don’t need you to feel bad for me, Barnes.” Despite her speaking the sentence into the fridge as she grabbed two beer bottles, her voice traveled from the kitchen to the living room with no issue.
But that was the thing. Bucky didn’t feel bad for her. His expression was because he wished for the little relief that doing something good might bring. Maybe it would even out his scales, or at least tip them in the right direction, make some of the guilt go away.
When Natasha rejoined the living room, she held her hand out, holding out an opened beer for him and that’s when she realized it herself. He didn’t feel bad for her. He just felt bad.
“I thought I’d erased all the red in my ledger but the thing about the past is, no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t change.”
Bucky looked at her as she spoke, hesitant to grab the beer at first and then with a simple nod he grabbed it. Natasha was well aware he didn’t want to talk about any of this, that he’d like these conversations and words to stay inside his own head. She knew because for the longest time, she was the same.
“We’re not all that different, Buck.” She was now back on the couch, her mouth was quickly covered by her bottle as she brought it to her lips to take a sip, leaving Bucky to marinate on her words and wait in anticipation for a little more understanding to them. “They have you working on your amends list?” Her question didn’t give Bucky an answer to his wondering, his curiosity behind Natasha’s words, but it did make him smile a real smile for once.
“You had an amends list?” He gave a question to answer a question.
“S.H.I.E.L.D. had a list of things for me in recruitment before I could be officially brought in, amends was one of them.” She nodded, now watching the TV even though she wasn’t retaining any information on the screen.
“Therapy and S.H.I.E.L.D sound like they should work together on their processes.” Bucky joked, bringing his beer up to drink from it.
“They’re the same thing, the same powers at be. It’s not so much the organizations but the people. Fury and Clint– they cared. The tasks weren’t just checklists, they made them matter–I made them matter.” Nat nodded almost like she was convincing herself.
“I don’t know if I have anyone who cares.” The words shocked Bucky despite being the one to say them outloud.
“You have me.” Nat answered without any hesitation. Her head turned to look at him directly in his eyes now. “We’re not all that different, Buck.” She repeated her sentence from earlier, but this time, reached out her hand and squeezed his for a brief second before turning back to the television.
That’s when it immediately clicked in Bucky’s head. Natasha saw those broken parts of him that he kept tucked away hidden in his head. The ones that would come out in the middle of the night in the form of sweat and heavy breathing from a nightmare. She didn’t judge him for what he had done because not only did she have a similar past, but also hoped people didn’t judge her for hers.
Bucky had always found Natasha attractive, she was beautiful, anyone with eyes could see that. The girl could fight too, he’d gone against her a few times during his years as The Winter Soldier and while he was under brainwashing and someone else’s control, he remembered the sting after fighting The Black Widow. She was always smart, he saw how aware of things she was, how she understood things on a deeper level and picked up on things someone with an average mind could never. But none of these things fully explained the feeling he always got when he’d see her, when he’d get a knock on his door. He realized it when he felt disappointment when he saw Yuri standing at his door yesterday. He had been hoping for Nat, and was sad it wasn’t her. Still, he buried that emotion quickly, hiding it behind all the other ones, and yet, it always managed to sneak out. Like right now.
“Why do you like Gunsmoke?” She pointed to the TV when she asked, shaking Bucky out of his head and burying that emotion yet again.
“Uh, I was just working my way through catching up on what I missed through the years. Sam told me to put it on my list.”
Natasha smirked and tilted her head. She was going to accept the answer even though she knew he wasn’t being totally upfront but then she felt an emotion of her own. One that was true to her personality, teasing.
“You broody types are all the same.” Smirking behind her bottle she took another sip and continued. “It’s the moral simplicity.” It was said so matter of factly. “You like that there’s clearly a good guy and a bad guy.”
“I–” Bucky went to argue but Natasha cut him off.
“My sister.”
The two words confused the hell out of Bucky, but maybe that’s always why he couldn’t shake this feeling. He loved that she kept him on his toes, he never knew what to expect from her.
It took everything in Natasha to say it, but she knew Bucky needed to know she wasn’t judging him, and the only way she felt she could do that is to share an intimate piece of information with him. This would show that she too liked seeing that there was clearly a good guy and a bad guy. That she was a good guy. Looking out for her family. It was probably as much to convince him as it was herself. Because the truth to people like Natasha and Bucky was that, things were never morally simple.
“That’s who I was watching when I got hurt last week.”
—
Bucky hid the smile just as fast as it grew when the knock sounded. He moved to the door, pulling his long sleeves up his arms before answering. Nat’s face was looking away from him, which made Bucky look down his hallway where her gaze was. Nothing. There was nothing there, just the hallway lights and mediocre art.
With a frown, Bucky looked back at Natasha. ““You’re always looking over your shoulder, why?”
In seconds, she was squeezing past him and entering his apartment. “I’m waiting for life to catch up to me.”
Bucky’s nostrils flared and he gave a quick shrug after closing and locking the door. “Spend more time with me and my life will catch up to you.”
“You forget it already has.” Natasha teased as she plopped down on his couch, which now had pillows and blankets courtesy of the woman starting to make good use of them currently.
Quick scenes of Bucky’s Winter Soldier days flashed before his eyes, ones filled with red from Natasha’s hair and blood. It was clear on his face he was wincing at the memories.
She hated seeing him like this, letting his past tear him apart, he deserved happiness.
“We’re different people.” It was what she told herself when she starred in the mirror, and when Bucky looked like this, she felt like she was looking at herself.
“When do we start actually believing that?” He mumbled the words but Natasha heard them loud and clear. Her face made it clear as day that she heard it as such.
“Beer or something stronger?” Bucky was pulling out the bottle of vodka that took up most of the real estate in the freezer.
“Definitely something stronger.” Nat said agreeably.
Their last conversation had ended with Natasha mentioning who she was following the night she came injured to his place. Bucky didn’t want to pry, he wasn’t one to push for answers so after her revelation the two continued to watch Gunsmoke in silence. But it weighed on him, the questions, the wonder. Why had she been following her sister, what was the story there. He wouldn’t pry it out of her, it wasn’t his style and he knew she had a good reason for it. It did bring him some comfort, knowing that he wasn’t alone in his trauma.
Bucky felt the urge to share something of the same magnitude now after seeing the woman’s face drop. So after pouring the clear liquor into two glasses he looked over the kitchen island, directly at her in the living room, and spoke up.
“Yuri’s on my list of amends, because of what I did to his son.” And just as fast as he spoke the statement was just as fast as he was drinking the cold alcohol in front of him before pouring another glass.
It didn’t take Natasha anymore than a few seconds to put it together. If she was anyone else, she’d probably hug him, that’s what she wanted, deep down. Someone to hug her. As if the embrace would take the pain of all the innocent lives they took. But not only would it not, but they weren’t the kind of people who hugged their pain away. At least not yet.
So Natasha did what they were ready for. Opening up. Maybe that’d be the first step.
She looked down at the blonde strands that painted the bottom two inches of her hair still. The outgrown blonde was the trauma of the last years still weighing on her shoulders. Every loss. Every mistake.
“I want my girlhood back.” She practically spit the words out like they were vomit, like they were so distasteful in her mouth. “I want to dye my hair blue, stay up so late watching movies that I fall asleep and have someone come out and tell me to go to bed.” Now it was truly like word vomit, a piling of thoughts and emotions coming out. She wanted what they took from her.
“What’s stopping you?” Bucky handed her the cold glass of alcohol before sitting in front of her on the ottoman, resting his elbows on his knees and swirling his newly poured vodka.
“Same thing that’s stopping you.” Her voice was level now, and she looked up to stare at Bucky. They were inches apart from each other, either one of them wasn’t sure if they were hearing the other’s heart thumping or if it was simply their own. “This is who we are, Bucky. We don’t sit by and watch people suffer, we do something about it. There will always be someone in danger, and as long as we are these people, we’re the ones that can help.” There was a little irony in that. Because while they would never sit by and watch people suffer, it’s exactly what they were doing to themselves. Making themselves suffer.
This notion of ‘this is who we are’ was something Natasha went back and forth on a lot. Each person saved wouldn’t erase one she hurt. But she’d never stop trying.
“So we just keep giving up our lives?” Bucky’s words didn’t pack a punch because he was similar to her. He’d never stop trying to make everything wrong he did right, even if that meant giving up his own. His question was more directed out of curiosity of how Natasha looked at it.
Nat fell back against the couch, searching for the remote and turning the TV on and changing the channel to Gunsmoke before tossing the clear liquid back and leaving the glass empty before shrugging.
“And find a little peace in the in between to keep us going.”
—
Bucky didn’t know what the hell he was doing. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing in the hair dye aisle of the drug store. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing buying a DVD at the shitty corner store that definitely didn’t have the copyright or licensing to be selling them. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing when he was knocking on Natasha’s door either.
“What the hell am I doing?”
Those were the words he spoke after he realized Natasha wasn’t home, or wasn’t going to answer the door. He repeated the words over and over as he walked home to his own place.
When he opened the door to his apartment, he discarded the box dye and movie on the counter and peeled his jacket off, tossing it with frustration.
“You’re usually in a better mood on Fridays. No therapy.” Nat’s voice did what it always does to Bucky, made his face turn a smile but this time it also made his stomach turn.
He looked up and saw the woman sitting on his couch, comfortable as ever with something white and fluffy on her lap.
“Brought you something.” Her head tilted towards the feline who was purring and just as comfortable in his apartment as Natasha seemed to be. “They say pets help with trauma. So I got you a cat.”
“You got me a cat.” Bucky repeated the sentence as he stared at the animal trying to wrap his brain around it.
“Figured she’d give you some peace in between everything.”
“She?”
“Named her Alpine.” Nat smiled when the cat turned to her at the sound of her name, having learned it rather fast.
Bucky felt his heart swell and before he approached both of them on the couch, he looked over at the quickly disregarded box dye and movie on the kitchen island. Grabbing it he took a couple steps forward.
“I got you something, too.”
Nat’s eyes moved to Bucky’s hands as he moved closer and her breath hitched for a moment. Blue hair dye and a movie she was definitely going to fall asleep watching.
“Figured I’d bring you some peace, also.”
The light on the TV made everything in the apartment have a blue tint to it, Alpine included as she sat curled up on Bucky’s lap. The bottom of Natasha’s hair had a blue tint to it as well, though it had nothing to do with the flickering TV tone and everything to do with the hair dye she rushed to put on the ends of her hair earlier in the night. Now, she curled up against Bucky’s side, her face snug against his chest as his arm rested around her, her breathing had fallen into a synced rhythm a little over an hour ago, signaling she had fallen asleep.
For the first time Bucky felt what Natasha meant by peace in the in between. Nothing was fixed, there was still a vulnerable world to help, he would still fight the demons in his head, but maybe he could find peace in the in between. And if that didn’t work, he’d do whatever he could to make sure Natasha found her peace in the in between. His eyes moved to look down at her and he smiled because he knew if nothing else could bring him peace, Natasha having hers would. So he lightly placed his lips on the top of her head and gave her a quick kiss before averting his eyes back to the movie that was still playing. Tonight he wouldn’t be able to wake her up and tell her it was time for bed because he had no bed to go to, but tomorrow he’d buy one, just so he could wake her up after falling asleep on the couch and fulfill another one of her wishes. They’d find their peace in the in between. He’d make sure of it.