A Bolt from the Blue

Chapter 4

When Steve came out of the room, he didn't look any different than when he had walked in it. Nothing on his face divulged the breakdown he had just had a few minutes ago. Or if he indeed was different, then he had grown stronger. Sometimes you had to let the pain overcome you to defeat it. And now that he had just let it submerge him entirely, he had taken full control of it.

When he came out, he no longer was this man with a broken heart and a tortured mind. He was a man who had embraced them and was now ready to grow from a broken heart, and this put his mind at rest somehow.

After his sobs had ended and once he had silenced his pain, he had turned to where his new uniform had been waiting. It was even more old-fashioned than it looked in the picture agent Coulson had shown him, but it indeed carried a lot of nostalgia as he had said. Seeing his shield, gently reflecting the rays from the warm light hanging above, raised an excitement within he had thought long gone. He also realized how he had missed it; not only for what it was, but for the memories it carried and what it meant to him.

Fully changed, he clutched his shield tight, ready to fight this Loki, ready to step back into the world, ready to face agent Romanoff (so far, the hardest part).

The officer was already waiting for him outside the door, as she had promised, and led him along the corridors. He met halfway with Bucky, who was just stepping out of a room, now dressed into a SHIELD navy stealth outfit. His friend shot him a concerned look.

"Are you okay?" he asked Steve, seeking the truth into his eyes before he would dare to blurt out a lie to his face.

"Yeah," he answered simply. It wasn't really a lie –he felt better than twenty minutes ago—and Bucky couldn't technically call him out on it. He nodded, not fully satisfied, suspecting an omission he had no evidence about to carry on with his investigation.

After a pause, he added. "Good, cause I didn't want to feel any guilt when I'd start making fun of your uniform. Enlighten me, are you on your way to fight an Asgardian or meet up with your bob-sleigh team?"

Steve rolled his eyes. At least he didn't treat him like someone whose feelings needed to be handled gently.

Also, ever since they had stumbled upon this sports in a newspaper, Bucky had been dying to use it as a joke. At least, it was a fulfilled quest. Now the matter was to know if it were to be his new running joke.

"Glad to see you didn't forget your humor in the ice."

Bucky went on, totally ignoring his friend's comment.

"I'm sorry, I'll try not to make you laugh from now on. I wouldn't want you to let a snort slip and accidentally cause the fabric to burst open at every stitch."

"The fabric won't stretch one bit when I kick your ass," Steve commented matter-of-factly, a playful smirk on the lips.

"As if you'd take the risk," Bucky puffed.

On their way to Berlin, Steve and Bucky were sat at the back of the jet, staring at agent Romanoff who was inside the cockpit with other SHIELD agents.

"But seriously, how is it possible?" Bucky mused aloud, his chin pressed on his fist, leaned over to get an even clearer view than he already had.

Steve observed her, as she swiftly and confidently pressed buttons, handling the control stick.

"I don't know," he murmured slowly. There was something peaceful in watching her.

Although he knew she wasn't Natalie, seeing her face as he remembered it, seeing her move like he could recall it, put his mind at rest. It was as if he wasn't as tormented wondering where Natalie was and whether she was fine as he was before. His eyes saw her before him and somehow it did the trick: it soothed the knot he had had in his stomach ever since he had been told Natalie was nowhere to be found.