Untangling a Memory

Not that different

Bucky remained in his room for a long time after the incident by the pool, avoiding Natasha and dealing with what had happened. He took a shower, wrote in his notebook, and paced from one side of the room to the other, feeling as many feelings as a person could handle in a number of hours. He hadn't experienced that kind of sudden rage in so long, and felt terrified and ashamed. Natasha had clearly been trying to help and he let his past get the better of him. 

But Sam had warned him about this. It was a post-traumatic response and he would become better at controlling himself over time. This was the first instance of someone trying to see, reach, or touch his shoulder since it had been manipulated and mutilated by the HYDRA scientists. Having someone reach out in the same way had sent shock waves of horror and pain through Bucky's body, knowing that what usually came next was hopelessness and lack of control.

He hadn't wanted to hurt Natasha, but he wasn't sure how to fix this. He was happy he had at least not touched her, thrown away her hand, or grabbed her. He'd removed himself from a situation he wasn't ready to deal with before it had gotten worse. But he had seen in her eyes how he had scared her and that was a different kind of hurt. His heart ached at the idea that he had pushed her away so hard and that she might not forgive him. So, he paced, racking his brain for any solution.

Natasha had been experiencing some similar feelings. She had gone too far and too fast. She had wanted to help him with something she knew still pained him, but she realized now that she hadn't gotten his permission. She had taken his control out of the situation, just as it had been every time his shoulder was reengineered by HYDRA. Natasha didn't want Bucky to associate her with lack of choice; she wanted him to think of her as someone he could trust.

Finally, Natasha realized the only thing she could do was own her mistake and hope that he would talk to her. Even if Bucky wasn't ready for that yet, he would know she was sorry and that she was there when he was ready to see her again. So, after a long hot shower and changing into some jeans and a high-neck tank top, she hobbled over to his room and lightly knocked on the door.

Bucky heard the knocking and turned his head to the closed door to his room. He had heard her coming down the hallway (she wasn't stealthy with her walking cast, after all), but once she had arrived at his door, the reality set in of having to deal with the situation. He took a moment deciding whether he was ready to speak with her.

Natasha waited quietly in the hallway. She thought about saying something or knocking again, but if he didn't want to respond, he didn't have to. So, she waited to see if she heard anything.

"The door's open." Bucky's voice was monotone.

Natasha slowly opened the door and found Bucky sitting on the end of his bed. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeve t-shirt, sleeve pulled down to cover as much of his metal arm as was reasonable. His feet were bare, resting on the board at the end that supported the mattress, with his elbows on his knees. She walked in just past the doorway and closed the door behind her, leaving lots of space between her and Bucky, unsure if she should approach.

"Hi." Her words were soft and tentative.

"Hey."

Bucky scratched the stubble on his jaw lightly with the fingertips on his right hand as he looked at the floor in front of him. Natasha didn't move from her position by the door, looking around awkwardly.

"I'm really sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's ok." Bucky started to rub the back of his left hand with his right thumb, still looking at the floor, his face full of sadness.

"It's really not though. I didn't ask first or give you the option to say no. That was callous and unfair of me. I'm really sorry."

Bucky finally looked up at Natasha, who couldn't cover the disappointment she had in herself. Bucky motioned her over and patted the bed beside him for her to sit down. Natasha followed the silent direction.

"It's my fault, too. I didn't think I'd react so strongly. I'm sorry that I scared you. I didn't mean to..."

"I was just surprised. Your reaction was totally appropriate. I'm sorry I put you in a situation to cause you that pain, that..."

Bucky reached over and placed his right hand on top of Natasha's hands that she had together in her lap. "Please stop saying you're sorry." He quieted his voice as he said this, pleading with her. Natasha nodded her head and took his hand in hers. "We agreed to talk to each other in the future and we are now. That's a step in the right direction."

Natasha nodded her head again in response. She hadn't thought about it like that. "You're good at this." Natasha's mouth turned up at the corner in a small smile.

Bucky laughed lightly. "Ha ha, I don't know if that's true, but I'm trying to learn."

"Just a couple of super spies learning how to use there words." Natasha elbowed Bucky lightly and he responded in kind. He smiled at her as they both loosen up, the tension in the room beginning to dissipate.

Natasha decided to say what she had been thinking and what she should have offered verbally earlier. "If you ever decide you are ready to show someone, I'm here for you. Remember you aren't the only one with scars."

"Yours are because of me though."

"They aren't the ones I've had all my life." He watched her now as she starred at her hands holding his, her thumb running over the surface of his skin. "See, you and I aren't that different. Has Steve told you about my history at all?"

"Very little."

Natasha was weighing how much she wanted to tell him, not ready to give him much insight especially of their time together. But she wanted to earn more trust with him. "Well, I didn't choose to become what I am. I didn't choose to get trained, to become a spy, to hunt people down and kill them. I was made and that's what I know, so that's what I do."

"I didn't know." Bucky studied her face as revealed this part of herself. Her words were very simple as she said them, lacking emotion.

"You wouldn't have because I don't talk about it. Really, I would have been surprised if Steve knew unless he had guessed." Natasha looked up at Bucky's face, starring into his clear blue eyes that she knew as well as her own. "But we aren't that different. Not all scars are physical. And sometimes you are just put in a situation where you lack control, whether you like it or not."

Bucky nodded to Natasha. She had shared with him something that very few people knew. In fact, he realized that she might not have told anyone other than him. While story had included very little detail, he felt very privileged that she would trust him enough to share it.

Natasha gave Bucky's hand a squeeze and got up to leave. He stood up at the same time, in an instinctive gentlemanly gesture.

As she started to walk back towards the door, Bucky whispered, "I won't tell anyone." It was as if he was telling her a secret, with the way he breathed it from his lips.

Natasha turned around and she smiled at him. "I know."

"If I change my mind about, you know..." Bucky gestured to his shoulder, "can I still let you know?"

"Of course. Like I said, I'm here for you."

Bucky nodded to Natasha, shyly. He wanted to tell her she could right now, but he wasn't ready. He understood that better after their conversation. But he really appreciated her, in all her grace, vulnerability, empathy, and strength. He was more glad than ever that he let her in to his room and into his life.

"Thanks Natasha."

"I'll see you for dinner?"

"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit." Bucky smiled at Natasha, nodding his head toward her as she turned and left, closing his door again on her way out.

Listen to: "To Build a Home" - The Cinematic Orchestra