Untangling a Memory

What did I do?

The feeling of falling. Wait, no. Not falling... gliding.

Feeling the air rushing past you, all around you. 

Focus...

The pull of your body weight on the wire as you drop on.

The feeling of your grip of the handle. How it feels in your hands.

Both hands.

Both.

Hands.

Focus...

You see... you see... white?

White and grey. Hills. Mountains. Shear cliffs. 

Hear the train on the track, moving fast.

Feeling your feet land on the top of the train and...

---

Bucky opened his eyes, laying on his back in bed. He had kicked off most of his covers. He was breathing heavily, but was still calm. He had just been pushing himself to the edge of his memories as he slept and it was hard on him, physically and mentally. He took a couple of deep breaths and sat up, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed and reaching for his notebook. He had to write down the memories while they were still fresh, so he didn't forget a detail. He read the notes each night before attempting to sleep, in hopes of continuing to expand his memories until they were whole and complete.

Bucky finished up his writing and started his usual routine for when he woke in the middle of the night. He went to his bathroom, splashed some water on his face, and left his suite to start walking.

Sometimes he walked around the courtyard outside, sometimes if it was a worse night he would walk all the way down to the fields and back. Sometimes he would walk somewhere just to sit and look at the sky, and sometimes he just kept his feet moving until he was ready to return to his room or his bed.

On this night, Bucky started with his floor, then the stairs outside the palace. He traced the edge of the garden, making sure to walk by all the different kinds of flowers as he went, breathing in their individual scents as he went. He was making his way back to his suite, when he noticed a familiar figure on the terrace next to the common area.

Bucky approached very slowly, as not to surprise Natasha. She was standing with her arms against the railing, looking over the softly glimmering lights of the city.

"I didn't realize I was the only one who had trouble sleeping." Bucky said softly. He'd stood all the way at the corner of the terrace, at least a dozen feet away from Natasha, looking out in the same direction.

"I saw you doing laps in the garden. Is that a common thing for you, Barnes?" Natasha kept looking towards the city as she spoke. Her tone was very relaxed.

"When I can't sleep, I walk. Sometimes there, sometimes elsewhere. It's not every night, but I put in a lot of miles." Bucky turned to face Natasha. Now that he was parallel to her, he could see her face better,  illuminated by the subtle glow of the city. "You didn't answer my question though..."

"I don't think you actually asked me a question." Natasha, smirked, turning her face towards Bucky.

"That is true, I guess. So, Natasha, how come you are awake?"