The Fluffy Adventures of Yelena and Bucky

Part 13

   Natasha shifted her leg up higher, balancing on the box of her pointe shoe, careful not to go too far over the arch. The other girls struggled a bit after a few minutes of trying, but she had practiced this over and over with Bucky until she got it just right.

   Bucky wasn't here right now, and neither was Yelena. Natasha was so scared for both of them. What would happen to Yelena? She must be out of country by now. Bucky was supposed to lead them through warmups that morning, but he wasn't there.

   Instead, Madame B led them in their exercises, giving no explenation as to where the two missing people were. 

   But Natasha was smart enough to guess what happened. Or what could've happened. They might've both been caught and punished for the penalty, but no matter which way it went, Bucky suffered the most.

   He knew what he was getting himself into, she could tell. Even with the strain of his everyday life in his eyes, he somehow managed to undermine his handler's wishes and the Soviet Union.

   It was the only plausable reason for them being missing. 

   Bucky trained them how to be invisible in all the right ways, especially when it came to their secret training and sneaking around for information about Bucky's past, and there was no way they had been caught training together alone by his handler. He wouldn't train her alone.

   She knew he didn't trust himself enough. His mind worked in ways she couldn't even guess, especially when it came to her and Yelena. If he had trained her alone before he included Yelena, why did he not trust himself around Yelena? 

   Maybe she was more fragile in a way, in his mind. More easy to break. 

   She knew Bucky treasured her more than his blunt words and intense training let her see, and Nat hoped that one day, Yelena would see that. 

   Maybe one day.

   She raised her leg higher, thoughts of torture and his agonized screams ripping through her mind. If she ever saw him again, she'd embrace him for everything he'd done for her and Yelena.

   He'd done so much, even though he said sometimes that he felt like he was unable to change anything about his life. 

   He'd done so much. 

   Pink and orange flooded the skies like wet-on-wet watercolour paint, the colours leaking into each other mesmerizingly.

   Bucky saw little snippets of it between each building as he drove, in the corner of his vision. It was beautiful.

   He didn't want to go home. He wanted to just keep driving with the soft wind sweeping against him and ruffling his hair, the sky forever in sight. 

   Too many thoughts. Too many thoughts were running around in his mind like untamed horses, easily spooked and highly reactive. His home was the place where he faced his mind, knowing that if they were there, his family would support him and try to be there every step of the way, even if they couldn't ever. That's why he didn't want to go home. 

   The whole day had felt off, but therapy made him return to the past in a way, made him scared he might just be running and scrambling in long, rocky circles. And then Yelena's little head shake that made him feel things he never thought he'd feel about her. 

   She had put up the invisible barrier, and it hurt, somehow. 

   Yelena's head touched his back, and energy zipped through his body. Why did he have to feel this way?

   He turned onto his quiet block, where a boy who lived across from Bucky sat on his porch steps with his head in a comic book. Bucky's street felt safe and open. A good place to grow up.

   It hadn't always been so peaceful. Before World War Two, during the Depression, some kids got rough and bitter towards each other, especially the elder boys who lived around there, and a couple times Bucky had witnessed theivery in action. 

   Bucky wished he could understand Yelena today. He always could understand her before, even in the Red Room when he was barely sane. 

   Or maybe he was just overthinking it. That could be it, it usually was. 

   She leaned closer, and Bucky smelt her mint shampoo and felt her chest lean on his back.

   What was she thinking about?

   He cut the engine in front of his house, and she climbed off, her warmth moving away from him. 

   "Hey, are you doing alright? You're a little zoned out today."

   Bucky took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just... I've got a lot on my mind."

   She nodded. "Let's go inside,"

   "Okay."

   Why did his life have to be so messed up? Yelena made it bearable, but at the end of the day, he was the one with his own problems. He couldn't expect anyone else to try to carry them, that didn't feel right, or fair for that person. 

   He realized he hadn't moved, and she was still standing over him. "Bucky?"

   "Oh. I'm sorry."

   Yelena placed her hand on him and pulled him closer, into a sort-of hug, but it didn't feel awkward. It felt natural, like he belonged in her arms. 

   She didn't tell him that he shouldn't feel sorry this time. In fact, she said nothing, just held him.

   It reminded him of earlier again. She was the kind of person that didn't like lying at all. She was way better at getting the truth out of people and saying the truth to others. 

   That was refreshing, after seventy years of deception and manipulation. 

   He pulled back a little, and smiled a little. She was so much smaller than him that she barely could hold him. "Let's go inside," he said. 

    When they were in the house, Yelena plopped herself down onto the couch and patted the space next to her, where Bucky obediently sat. "So, are we gonna talk?"

   Bucky shifted. "About?"

   "Well, I was thinking along the lines of..." she gulped as if she was nervous. That was out of character for her, at least to Bucky. "When we saw Sam. That was... complicated."

   "What? It didn't look complicated to me," he said coldly, unable to keep it from his voice, then made an embarrassed face. "Sorry, that came out all wrong."

   "Did it?"

   "Yelena, what is going on? Please just... clear it up."

   "I... didn't exactly imply the whole truth. I really..." she trailed off.

   Bucky's heart did jumping jacks in his chest. "Um. Is that what I think it means?"

   "Uh. Yes, but you've got to understand, Bucky. We," she gestured between both of them, "can't be together."