Functional

9. We Are Dysfunctional and Inefficient

Part II: Bucky and Natasha

1.     We are dysfunctional and inefficient

There is pain everywhere, he is screaming, they are taking everything away.  Everything he has worked so hard to remember, to piece himself together, is leaving him.  Steve, and Brooklyn, and the Howling Commandos will be gone.  He screams until his throat is raw as his body compliantly leans back and accepts the restraints, doesn’t struggle as the metal contraption is lowered around his head.  The electricity surges through him and his screams have a different caliber, his fingers wrapping tightly around the armrests of the metal chair, feet straining to move himself out of the cold grip of the machine.

He awakens violently, covered in a cold sweat, breathing hard.  Slowly, he begins to recognize where he is, his bedroom in Avengers Tower.  The room is mostly bare, but he feels relieved nonetheless.  A note from Steve is on the bedside table and he blinks at it blearily, not interested in reading it just yet, but comforted by the familiar handwriting.  He is safe, they haven’t found him again, haven’t strapped him to that horrible machine.  He remembers, well, not everything, but a lot of things.  Steve and Brooklyn and the Howling Commandos.  More missions than he’d like to recall, but he’ll take the bad with the good.  It is better to know, he has decided.  And must remind himself of frequently, especially after a particularly visceral memory flash.

A month earlier, Steve would have been by his side immediately after a nightmare.  Now, he has convinced his friend that he is recovered sufficiently to not need constant supervision.  If that means waking up alone and terrified from time to time, he supposes it’s worth it not to have Steve worrying himself to death, always on edge.  He can’t remember right now where Steve is, but reassures himself that this kind of thing comes back quickly enough.

He climbs out of bed and pulls a long-sleeved shirt over his head.  He doesn’t like looking at his arm, and this is the easiest solution.  Wandering into the bathroom, he looks at himself in the mirror and smiles grimly at the ghastly face that greets him.  He supposes he might look better if he cut his hair, but the thought of blades that near his face disturbs him.  There are triggers he is not prepared for, that make him initiate a fight-or-flight mode, but some are easy to see coming.  He works hard to identify the more surprising ones so he doesn’t react like that when Steve is around, and see the guilt-ridden horror on his friend’s face.

Lifting his right hand, he touches the whiskers on his face and supposes he could at least get rid of that on his own.  Smaller blades.  His eyes close as he remembers that he had gone to bed early tonight, before dark, due to little sleep the night before.  Steve checked with him and made sure it was okay if he went out to do… something.  He doesn’t know.  It’s not yet 22:00, so he probably doesn’t need to worry about Steve yet.  Probably.

Knowing that he will not be going to bed again anytime soon, he decides to take a shower and shave.  If there is one thing he most appreciates about being in this time, and free of HYDRA, it is a warm shower.  He isn’t sure if he bathed while he was the Soldier, and definitely does not want to put too much thought into that kind of thing, but showers were rare and usually cold in the army.  He remembers that much.  Steve may have noticed his penchant for long showers, but hasn’t said anything.  The way he looked at him after the first one he had here seemed to indicate that he understood the compulsion.  Perhaps Steve reacted the same way when he woke up here two years ago.  Now he’s probably used to them.

He dresses in comfortable clothes, nothing tight-fitting, and tucks his hair behind his ears.  Looking in the mirror, he is surprised by how much younger he looks, clean-shaven and without his hair in his face.  He doesn’t think he looks particularly healthier, but it is a positive change, at any rate.  His throat hurts, though the warm, humid atmosphere of the bathroom helps, he decides to go get something to drink.