Soft Robotics ✧ Bucky Barnes

(malware[1.04]);

1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4.

It rained steadily as I tossed and turned on the couch in Natasha's living room that night. I couldn't sleep. I felt uneasy in the middle of the room, and I wished I could lay with my back to the wall where no one could come up behind me.

I knew it was irrational. Rumlow was perfectly capable of killing me in front of my face. He could probably still kill me if he was blindfolded and handcuffed, and it wouldn't matter if I saw him coming or not. But even still, I glanced toward the window, checking to assure myself he hadn't somehow managed to scale the Tower. If he did come in that way to murder me, I thought, I hoped he would try not to knock over my orchid.

It was weird thinking he wanted to kill me now. Of everyone on that HYDRA base, he'd probably traumatized me the least, in hindsight. The first time I'd met him was when they were moving me into the lab, the facility where I had to work. I hesitated to move, and saw the butt of a pistol coming down toward my head, only for a hand to shoot out and hold it still.

"Relax," Rumlow had said. "She's moving."

I'd looked at him in shock, and then mustered a small, grateful smile. It had been genuine. He'd nodded, his face blank, always unreadable.

A week in, I tested it and told him I needed my antidepressant, that I might calm down and breathe better if I had it. And I knew he wasn't sure about it, because he ignored me completely. Then the next day, he asked me what I took. The day after that, he tossed a bottle at me and said, "So you'll quit bitching."

Then, I remembered how he'd stared at me when I testified, like he wanted me to be scared. It had worked.

It's not fair, I thought pathetically, smushing my face into the pillow. I'd summoned all that courage to testify—with months of panic attacks before and after—because that was supposed to be the end of it. They weren't supposed to let him back out.

I tried to soothe myself. Nat was in the next room. That was comforting. Tony was in this building too, just a floor above me. And Steve was somewhere on this floor, I thought.

And Bucky, too. I thought about him, somewhere in this building. I wondered if he was asleep. I wondered if I would see him around, or if he kept to himself enough to be elusive.

I wondered if he'd talk to me tomorrow. I was warm with the thought. I wondered if he'd ask me out. I'd been sure he was going to earlier, when he'd walked me all the way to Natasha's apartment and lingered outside, hesitating.

Yes, I'd rehearsed in my head. Yes that sounds great, I'd practiced internally. Yes yes yes yes—

Then he'd cleared his throat, then paused again, then said, "You can keep asking me for stuff like this. If you're scared about Rumlow. I don't mind. I don't want you to be scared."