Untangling a Memory

Gloves off

The days started to fall into a rhythm. Steve would draw in his sketchbook. Bucky would read. Natasha would go on runs. Sam would spend time in the gym. They all would come together for family dinners each night. They would join each other in their activities as well. Sam would go on runs with Natasha, so he wasn't always competing with one of the super soldiers for speed. Bucky was learning to cook from Steve, who made their family dinners most every night. Steve, Sam, and Bucky would all go work out together, a friendly pissing contest to see who was strongest, fastest, had the most endurance, the best agility. Natasha loved to come in and put all the boys to shame, as she was no slouch in terms of strength or other physical skills. And many nights after dinner were spent watching movies or having drinks on the terrace together. The four of them had a routine that worked well for them.

But things weren't perfect, not for any of them. Most of the time Steve spent drawing was of things he missed- years of life gone by, things he had given up to be an Avenger, and especially Peggy. Natasha was still sleeping in her bathtub, though no one else knew it, and still having as many bad dreams as good dreams. Sam trained so hard everyday because he was hoping they would be back out on missions again soon, as he felt most useful when he was working rather than sitting around. Bucky was still having intense memory/dream combinations almost every night, many of which woke him up in a cold sweat and forced him on one of his middle of the night walks. And he still wore his long sleeve shirts and glove every day.

Natasha was noticing this on a more regular basis, that Bucky was going out of his way to hide his metal hand and arm. Even though most days the temperature hovered well into the steamy-summer range, he wouldn't wear anything except for long shirts. They clearly weren't comfortable for him either, as you could see that his back and chest got sweaty easily and his neck was frequently red from the heat.

Natasha also saw how his glove made it more difficult for him to conduct simple tasks. Even though she knew he'd worn it plenty when he was living on his own after escaping HYDRA, he still could be kind of clumsy with his left hand when he had the glove on. When he read, he had trouble turning the pages with he left hand, so he only used his right. The other night while trying to do the dishes after dinner, he'd had a tough time finding the right amount of pressure to use when trying to hold a plate he was washing with his gloved hand. It was so sudsy and had kept slipping out of his hand back into the sink when he tried to hold it delicately, so he gripped it in frustration, shattering the plate through hand-strength alone. He'd ended up letting Steve finish the dishes and spent the rest of the night alone in his room.

But what made Natasha most upset about seeing Bucky struggle to cover his left arm and hand is that he had only started doing it again after she had told him about the choking incident in Bucharest. Since their friendly reconciliation in the garden, they had spent many hours running, talking, watching movies, or otherwise hanging out together. However, Bucky still seemed too self-conscious to expose his metal appendage in front of her. She'd tried to reassure him that she was alright and that she didn't hold the experience against him, but something about it was still clearly bothering him.

Natasha could hear the sound of the hits on the punching bag well before she even entered the gym. Steve and Sam were with T'Challa for the morning, getting updates regarding the Accords and other global business, so Natasha knew who was inflicting their frustration on that poor piece of gym equipment.

"Sheesh, what did that thing do to piss you off?" Natasha said with a smirk. She had entered the gym silently and was now standing behind Bucky, leaning on the wall, completely without his notice.

Bucky jumped and turned around. "Dammit Natasha! Always with the super spy stuff." He clearly had been caught off guard by her arrival.

"You are just too easy and it's just too fun to sneak up on you. Sorry, Barnes." Natasha shrugged, still smiling.