Untangling a Memory

The support of friends

"Look who's finally waking up!"

Natasha groaned into her pillow and rolled away from the sound of Steve's voice.

"Awww, come on, beautiful! I think it's time for you to finally rise and shine!" Steve nudged Natasha as she tried to bury herself underneath the covers.

"Urgghh, just give me another hour."

"It's already 10:00am, Nat." Steve pushed the fluffy blanket away from where she'd pulled it over her head and patted her on the back. "Come on, time to get up. There's coffee on the side table for you."

Natasha grumbled as Steve exposed her face to the light of the room. Finally, she relented, rubbing her eyes and stretching her body. The promise of coffee was enough to convince her. She fluffed up her pillows behind her to prop herself up and grabbed her mug. The sips of the caffeinated liquid seemed to instantly give her life.

"Why are you still in bed? This is unusually lazy of you."

"Ha ha, I was just waiting on you. I wanted to stay home this morning and do some drawing anyway, so I figured I might as well hang out here and listen to your snoring."

Natasha lightly nudged Steve, but quickly steadied herself, almost spilling the full mug on her chest and his white bed linens. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and she gave a face that said a silent apology.

"Want to see what I was sketching?"

Natasha nodded and Steve tilted his drawing pad toward her. His mostly complete pencil drawing was of her, laying facing away from him, head on her pillow, surrounded by blankets, and wearing her favorite stolen sweatshirt. Natasha smiled at the gentle and soft lines of the sketch, capturing the depth of her comfort as she slept next to him.

"That's really nice, Steve. Though I think you missed the drool spots on my pillow." Natasha smirked.

"An artist takes their own creative liberties when drawing."

 Natasha propped herself up further, leaning against the headboard, and looked around. "Where are the boys?"

"Buck and Sam are running the stairs, I think. Sam suggested he have some 1-on-1 time with Buck, so they could catch up on his recovery. I don't think they got to talk much while we were on the mission. But it's good for them to talk. Sam provides a different kind of help than I can for him."

"Or I can."

Steve nodded to Natasha. He liked that she was talking about her own relationship with Bucky again and how they supported each other. He knew that each Natasha, Sam, and he could care for Bucky differently and he greatly appreciated that Bucky had so much support.

"Speaking of, how'd things go with Buck yesterday? Seemed like you two were out for a while."

"Uhh, yeah. I think it went ok." Natasha sipped her coffee and thought about the totality of her talks with Bucky the day before. It certainly wasn't all smooth sailing. "I mean, there were highs and lows."

"Wanna tell me about it?" Steve folded up his sketchbook and placed it on the side table next to him, giving Natasha his full attention.

"Well, I guess, the good part was he didn't give me a hard time about leaving, which you know I was worried about. Sometimes I forget how supportive and nonjudgemental he can be of those kinds of things."

"Yeah, I think he can relate to some of those tendencies and inclinations, maybe even in a way that I or some of the others can't."

Natasha nodded. She hated to acknowledge how right Steve was, mostly because he right so often, but Bucky could understand her struggles in a different way than the others. He knew how hard it was to get out of those habits, those routines developed to protect oneself, and he acknowledged the baby steps she was making to get better. It was something they saw in each other that the others probably would never totally grasp.