After the Bar

[onlyforthedream]

It's not the first time I've carried Bucky, although it's the first time I've had to do so because he tried to drink a bar. I'm not entirely sure what point he was trying to make, but hopefully he feels that he made it- and nothing else, come morning. He's sort of walking- he refused outright any alternative- but I have to say, the bulk of his dead weight is lightened somewhat by the fact that his right cheek is wedged up against my shoulder and the resultant facial expression is more or less priceless. I only wish I could appreciate the moment for what it looks like- war buddies dragging each other back from a bar. With everything that led up to it, though... To be honest, I don't know what I feel. I'm grateful that Bucky stayed, that he refused to be brushed off or let me go off on my own. I can appreciate the whys of it, but all the same I'll be as grateful to drop him off at Natasha's. I need to get my head clear, I need to wrap my hand where I sliced it on the broken glass, I need to hit something. Not necessarily in that order. Lifting the hand not anchored around Bucky, I rap twice on the door and then try to drag him a little upright. "You're home, soldier. Tasha, you in?"

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[widowskiss.livejournal.com]

In the other room, James makes a noise in his sleep, and Natalia watches that line form between his brows, the unhappy one that reappears no matter how many times Natalia smoothes it away. That makes three times he's lived through something no one should. It's only her fingers curled hard around the flat of her chair that prevents Natalia going to him. Three times Steve could do nothing to stop it.

"You did what was necessary to escape from the loop," she says, her voice bearing all the tightness of tenuous control. "What is necessary is not always what is deserved. He knows that."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"God damn it, Tasha-" The words are out of my mouth, grating in my throat, and I scarcely realize that I've stood up and shoved away from the table, everything in me humming to break something, to lash out somehow. I dig my knuckles as hard as I can into the wall behind me and duck my head, staying that way, staying still so I don't explode.

[widowskiss.livejournal.com]

She's careful then, still and silent with only the hammer of her heart and Steve's heaving back for company. There are few things that can work him up this way, and more than half of them lie with the man in the next room. She can't comfort him. She can't be more than witness to his worst pain, but Natalia finds she wants to try.

"Steve," she says. "It's not your fault."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

I make a harsh sound that isn't anywhere near a laugh, but sounds like it was trying to be one. I clamp my mouth shut and shake my head, fractionally, holding it in. It won't help anything, that cynicism, that unwillingness to recognize what she's doing and accept it.

I drop my hands from the wall and flex them, carefully, at my side for a moment before I turn to face her sidelong, although I have trouble actually looking at her.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

"Natalia, I should go."

[widowskiss.livejournal.com]

She can't speak. Natalia can't speak without becoming the sobbing wretch she feels like, sorrow and anger unlike anything she's felt in a while rising up in her, and for a moment she thinks, You should.

But it makes no difference. Steve may hide his pain in his averted eyes, and Natalia in her careful breaths, but the opportunity to scrape through this with dignity passed without ever giving them hold. There is no point to pretending she is unmoved, just as there is no point in pretending he's not seconds away from breaking. "Whatever you need," she says, voice finally shot. Ask.

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

It hurts, hearing her like that. She's one of the strongest people I know, and I do not associate with many weak people. They just don't come with the territory. I cross the room to her and reach out to gently cup her elbow, her distress, however well contained, providing a momentary focal point for me.

"Take care of him," I tell her. It's as much a request as an order, my tone as beseeching as anything else.

"You're the best thing for him, Tasha. Just take care of him. Please."

[widowskiss.livejournal.com]

"I will," she says, the words careful around the painful knot in her throat, but Natalia thinks, I am not the only one. James needs Steve as much as he needs her, needs to know that he's all right, and he isn't. She is sending Steve away still broken, and yet for all her talents, Natalia can't think of a thing to ease his pain.

"Don't torment yourself," she says, quiet. "You have both had quite enough of that already."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

It's an impulse, possibly a wild one, but I don't know what to say, what gesture could signify that I understand her displeasure and am grateful for her concern. I kiss her forehead, the briefest contact, putting us in a place we've never been before, but then, we're already there.

"Thank you," I reply, just as quietly, and with another brief squeeze of her arm I walk past her and out in to the night.