The Coffee Shop Girl ~ Bucky Barnes

Chapter 23

Natasha smirked as she watched Bucky walking carefully into the room, his head turning from side to side so fast she wondered if he was going to hurt his neck. He had been doing this for the last four days, apparently determined to use his eyes enough that he didn't even notice his hearing was gone, though she wasn't sure it was working. The man had slammed head-first into Stark on the second day, and he had been like this since. Apparently it had been because he was struggling to navigate his Starkphone without it making any noise, but she had had to work that out through his rather iffy signing.

On that front the week had been an experience and a half. What with Clint and Katia being the only ones able to sign at the minute, it had been utter chaos communicating between them. Normally Natasha herself, as well as Tony, would have been able to help, but Natasha's impaired arm movements had limited her movements to spelling things out with her left hand - which already wasn't her strong suit - and Tony had a silver headset wrapping around his eyes which meant he couldn't really see properly, with only a tiny pinprick of his vision working.

As such, Katia and Tony were able to sign to people, but they were useless when it came to interpreting, so most people had been left to speak out loud for sections. Clint was working overtime to help Bucky - who had really only been taught the basics by HYDRA alongside very topic specific words (as it turned out 'stun grenade' wasn't really vocab most people used in daily life) and so could barely express himself even when his movements were distinguishable as actual words - but there was only so much he could do. Bucky had been making do, and in fairness to him he was handling the situation better than some of Natasha's other teammates.

Natasha somewhat wondered if the system had been rigged so specific Avengers were given certain numbers, because everything seemed just a little too convenient to her if not. Pietro had been confined to a wheelchair, and he had spent all week whinging about everything he couldn't do. It wasn't even like he could escape the wheelchair to sneak away for a quick run, because Stark had made sure his was specially reinforced with extra bands, and it wouldn't unlock unless Tony himself put in a twenty digit code.

Natasha had witnessed at least seventeen thumb-wars between Steve and Pietro over the last three days, as the two men commiserated over not being able to participate in their usual levels of sports. It had been an interesting experience, with the two of them strangely evenly matched thanks to Steve's super strength and Pietro's general specialness. Natasha somewhat suspected an element of cheating had been introduced though, based on the subtle movements of Wanda's fingers whilst the two were battling it out, and how her eyes always stopped moving over her book when it happened.

Wanda had opted out of taking part in the event, claiming that she knew her powers would overwhelm whatever they did to her anyway, so it wouldn't have as much effect. From the way she had avoided everyone's eyes whilst saying it, Natasha suspected it may have more to do with not wanting to let Stark tech anywhere more near her than necessary. She was still far more wary than her brother - who had been as quick in forgiveness as he had been in anger - and generally did her best to avoid the man.

"Natasha," Bucky greeted quietly as he sank into a seat beside her and raising his hands to form a boxy gesture Natasha realised was actually a question. "Have you seen Katia?"

Natasha shook her head at him, knowing that she couldn't rely on signing for this conversation to work. "Not this morning. I think she's helping Tony with something."

She had to repeat the phrase four times for Bucky to get it, speaking slowly to make sure he caught as much as possible. Natasha had grown quickly used to Bucky's remarkable inability to read lips - she had no idea how he had survived HYDRA - and so she wasn't particularly bothered by repeating her words. It was easier than searching out Clint to translate for her, and her handwriting with her left hand was abysmal at the best of times.